


Frankly, It's a Travesty If You Don't

by Deisderium



Series: The First Rule of Book Club [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: And On Saying Them Out Loud, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Makes a Move, Characters Watching Disney Movies, Fluffnado Two: the Fluffening, M/M, Movie Club for Two, Not Actually Book Club, Or Possibly With Tongue, Possibly Movie Club, Seriously nothing but fluff, There's A Tag For That, Working On Their Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 05:10:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16212089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deisderium/pseuds/Deisderium
Summary: Bucky and Steve watch Fantasia, and Bucky uses his words.(Spoilers for Fantasia, but it was released in 1940, so I don't feel bad about it.)





	Frankly, It's a Travesty If You Don't

"Do you remember _Fantasia?"_

Steve is visiting Bucky for a whole week before Book Club, which will be the second time he attends, which is excellent. Bucky decided this would be a good time to use his words, but he's finding it hard to actually do. It's not like they're doing much besides talking, but there's talking and then there's talking. 

Steve asked Bucky a question. Bucky would be more on top of answering if he weren't nervous, but that's okay. His memory is pretty good these days, even when he's not paying the closest attention.

" _Fantasia?_ " Bucky tries to remember if this is a person, place, or thing. "I'm not sure. Tell me about it."

"It's a Disney film. Came out in 'forty. It was a cartoon, but not like they are now. All music and animation." Steve settles down on the couch next to Bucky with a thump, and this is great. Six months ago he'd have started at the edge, and he's already practically at the middle.

"Bet you liked that, didn't you," Bucky says. Present-day Steve doesn't draw as much as he did when they were kids, but he does some. He's brought his sketchbook to the apartment a couple of times.

"Damn right I did." Steve throws his arm over the back of the couch so his hand is almost touching Bucky's trapezius, and it is all Bucky can do not to lean back into it. "I don't know if you remember--" This is another stride of progress, because Steve doesn't wait anxiously to check, just goes on and talks since he wants to. "--you saved up your money so you could take us both, and you didn't tell me what you were doing ahead of time. You surprised me with something just for me." Steve lowers his hand so his fingers tighten along Bucky's shoulder. Maybe it's okay if Bucky leans back just a little.

"You liked the art," Bucky guesses.

"We both did," Steve says. "Anyway, turns out they released a remastered version a couple of years ago. It's been a long time since either of us watched it. Wanna check it out?"

"Sounds good," Bucky says, and hopes that his voice is only at maybe four percent of the affection that he feels. _Rogers, you big nerd._

The beginning of the movie is all about visual representation of music, and the different instruments the orchestra plays. This is kind of cool, although it strikes zero memories. Barnes is trying to pay close attention so he can properly appreciate Steve's raptures about the animation later, but he is hyperfocused on the sound of Steve's breathing, and the rumble of Steve's laughter through his giant chest as he squeezes Bucky a little closer when the introduction fades away and the Nutcracker Suite begins. A dandelion breaks apart into points of light hitting flowers and leaves and spiderwebs, and god he wishes he could remember the first time they saw this in the theater. Had Steve rested his arm along his shoulder like this, or had he pulled Steve closer, and was their every interaction tinged with wanting the way it was now?

For him anyway. He hopes it is so for Steve. At least Steve doesn't mind touching him, or he wouldn't do it so often.

Dr. Goldstein agrees with Janelle that if he wants to change his interactions with Steve, the first step is talking about it. All the books are equally clear that to leap before one talks is only to lead to infinitely longer discussion later and also possibly bad feelings. Bucky is not good at lengthy discussion and has had enough of bad feelings, so it is up to him to say something.

Steve has not moved his arm off Bucky's shoulder, and in fact has tugged him closer so that their sides are flush against each other. Steve is warm, and his heart rate is slower than Bucky's but faster than his resting rate. For fuck's sake, do normal people calculate the resting heart rate of the person next to them?

The mouse has erred with the cleaning supplies. Steve chuckles as things go wrong, the broom and bucket multiplying. Bucky is unable to laugh. Perhaps Steve has not spent the last twenty minutes calculating the shallowness of Bucky's breath the way Bucky has been considering his.

Bucky has done many difficult things. Some of them he remembers and some of them he has read about. He stormed German fortresses and dragged himself from a Somalian desert to the Indian Ocean after a mission gone wrong with less effort than it takes to open his goddamn mouth to his best friend. Janelle said he doesn't need to worry that Steve would want to be rid of him, and he doesn't really think he does, but his gut is harder to convince.

The part with the dinosaurs is interesting because dinosaurs, though he can admit it goes on a little long. It is the ballet with the hippos and crocodiles that sparks a piece of the past in him. He bites his lip, trying to chase the memory, but it's not Steve in a movie theater that comes, but endless repetition of ballet positions. The language he remembers is Russian, not English. Most of his memories of Steve are warm, even the ones from the winter of '43, but this is endless cold.

"You okay?" Steve whispers in his ear. His face is very close.

"It's fine," Bucky says. "I'll tell you after."

"There's a pause button, Buck," Steve says dryly, but Bucky shakes his head. He needs the time to think anyway.

The last cartoon is a giant devil man on top of a mountain, spreading enormous wings and calling monsters to him. They dance in the pit of the mountain, in flames that shift color and create more monsters at the devil's whim. The devil throws some of his creations into the fire. When the sun comes up, he flinches away from the light, and the monsters retreat. The devil folds his wings and becomes part of the mountain again. The night is full of terrors, but at least in the cartoon, sunrise can chase them away. As one of the monsters himself, Bucky wishes it had ever been that easy.

Dawn sets in, and the bells chime as the village returns to peace and the music shifts to _Ave Maria_. He remembers the smell of incense, the dull gleam of gold. Steve turns to face him more fully as the song turns to credits, withdrawing his arm, to Bucky's regret.

"What was that about?"

"I tried to remember when we saw the movie the first time." Bucky shrugs. "Got some of the wrong memories."

"Bad ones? I should've--" The furrow in the middle of Steve's brow is back. Bucky wants to smooth it away with the thumb of his right hand. The other fingers would go somewhere else. Maybe in Steve's hair?

"No. I told you not to pause it, and you didn't need to." Steve looks ready to argue--which, when does he not?--so Bucky shakes his head. "It's good. I'm good. I'm glad you took me at my word."

This makes the line on Steve's forehead go away on its own. "If you're sure," Steve says slowly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"It wasn't one of the bad ones," Bucky says. "I remember being taught ballet. The same move, over and over again. In Russia."

"They taught you ballet? Why?"

"Hell if I know. I don't know if I could do it if I wanted to. I just remember learning."

Steve's hand must have an affinity for the superior trapezius, because now it comes to rest on his own. "Speaking of. I don't know how serious you were…" A flush starts at his forehead and swoops down his neck. "Only you mentioned. It's not ballet. But. You did say I could teach you…"

"Steve," Bucky says when it becomes clear that this is all he's going to get, "are you asking me to dance?"

"Well, it won't be the Russian ballet." Steve is still bright red, but he's smiling. Bucky sets the popcorn bowl on the coffee table and stands up, offering his right hand. Steve takes it and pulls himself up.

"When did you learn to dance?" Steve has not let go of Bucky's hand, even though they are both standing now.

"You taught me, remember?"

Bucky shoots him as unimpressed a glance as he can manage. "None of that ever took."

Steve shrugs with one shoulder. "I took a couple classes."

Bucky doesn't even try to stop the smile he can feel curling his mouth. "For me?"

"Well, yeah, punk. I don't see anybody else asking me for dance lessons."

This is an obvious opportunity to say the thing he has been wanting to say. That no one has been asking Steve for dance lessons is probably only true if one maintains an extremely narrow definition of dance lessons. He is certain that other people ask Steve for all manner of things, even if they don't know Steve like he does. Steve is manifestly symmetrical, tall, and muscular. Bucky remembers when none of that was true, and he liked Steve anyway, so these hypothetical anybody elses can get in line.

Bucky is aware that he is procrastinating. He has already decided now is a good time. He just has to make himself say it.

"Hey, Steve," he says. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Steve's fingers tighten just a fraction around his. "You can always ask me anything."

Bucky takes a breath. His heart is pounding rapidly. These are only words. They should not feel so weighty. "I know we never." He stops. He has a little more sympathy for Steve sounding like a dumbass a minute ago. His reading suggests that he should be direct, for maximum clarity. "But I want to kiss you." Steve stares at him.  "You have to tell me if that's okay or not," Bucky prompts. He's not doing a thing until he knows that Steve wants him to. He's not doing anything to him that Steve doesn't want ever again. 

Steve makes a little strangled sound. "Yeah, Buck. That's more than okay." His eyes are very wide as Bucky tugs him closer. It is impossible that they actually get bluer as the distance between them closes, but it is a pleasing optical illusion. Bucky slides his metal arm around Steve's waist to pull him even closer. With the shirt between them, Steve won't have to feel the metal on his skin. Bucky's pulse is pounding in his neck, in his wrists. His whole body is lit up like an electrical impulse, nervousness transmuted to anticipation. Steve said yes. 

Steve's lips are soft. He has touched them before, but only in the context of fixing Steve up after fights. Holding ice to Steve's split lip doesn't give the full experience, not at all. He closes his eyes to better focus on sensations: the scrape of stubble against his cheek, the smell of Steve's detergent, the feel of Steve's fingers beneath his flesh hand. He slides that hand up Steve's arm, over his shoulder, up his neck, into his hair. Steve makes a small sound against his mouth, so Bucky leaves it there. Steve wraps his arms around Bucky's waist. This way of being held is support, not constraint.

Bucky opens his mouth a little wider, and Steve follows his lead. Which is kind of funny; most of their lives, it's been the other way around. Maybe it's nice for Steve to not have to be in charge sometimes. Bucky runs his tongue along Steve's lower lip, and Steve makes the hand-in-his-hair sound, but better, and suddenly Bucky wants to be touching him with all of his skin. 

He pulls back a little bit so he can look at Steve. Steve's eyes flutter open, lashes ridiculously long. Bucky moves his hand down along Steve's jawline. Steve's pulse is as rapid as his own, and he's smiling. "You still good, Buck?" 

"Yeah." Bucky realizes he's grinning, too. "I've wanted to do that forever. Since the thirties." 

"Really? Me too." Steve's hands tighten on his back. "You've had a rough time since you came back. I didn't want to put any pressure on you." 

Bucky leans forward and kisses him again, because he can. "You wouldn't. You didn't."

Steve swallows. His throat moves under Bucky's hand. "I love you."  He knows Steve loves him; he has known it his whole life, it feels like. But hearing Steve say it out loud makes his heart swell to fill his ribs, because the most important person to him thinks he's important too. 

"I love you, too," Bucky says, because maybe it will give Steve that same feeling. 

Steve slides his hands up to tangle them in Bucky's hair and pulls him into another kiss. This is great. Bucky  could spend days like this. They come up for air a little later and Steve says, "I'm glad you said something." 

Bucky lets his eyes flick away, inexplicably shy. Why is this embarrassing? Steve's seen him in far worse states than this. "Well, I talked to Janelle," he says. "She thought if I hadn't gotten rid of you yet, I probably wasn't going to, even if you didn't feel the same way." 

"I'm gonna need to bring her a nicer bottle of wine this time," Steve says. 

Bucky laughs, and even to him it sounds happy. "So will you teach me how to dance, or what?" 

"Might take a while," Steve says. "I took some classes, but I'm not great at it." 

"It's all right, pal." Bucky loops his hands around Steve's neck so he can smile at him. He probably looks a little goofy. He doesn't care. Happiness is the opposite of a weight in his chest. "We've got all the time in the world."  

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place right before the final meeting in The First Rule of Book Club Is You Absolutely Talk About Book Club. 
> 
> _Fantasia_ was a superb technical achievement in its time. [Here](https://www.tor.com/2016/07/14/fusing-music-to-moving-paint-disneys-fantasia/) is a great article that goes into depth about each of the sequences. Young Steve would have lost his artistic marbles over it in the theaters.
> 
> Further headcanon: They watch more Disney movies they missed, and when they get to _Sleeping Beauty_ , Steve completely falls in a Google well when he researches [Eyvind Earle](https://www.google.com/search?q=eyvind+earle&safe=active&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwjy8MLBzPLdAhWjTN8KHZQDAv8Q_AUIDigB&biw=1366&bih=657%22) landscapes.


End file.
